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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24754876">Second chances</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Retsilia/pseuds/Retsilia'>Retsilia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Connor-Ending, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:47:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24754876</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Retsilia/pseuds/Retsilia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The revolution has ended. Markus has fled, all the old leaders have been killed, and suddenly Connor is all alone on the podium with thousands of new deviants waiting for him to speak. Amanda tries one last time to take him back and it’s up to Connor to think if he accepts the threat he is now facing and, even worse, presenting. Should he stop himself before everything Markus, North, Simon and Josh had accomplished would be drained dry? Or should he trust in himself and fight to pave a new path for them all?</p><p>“One bullet would be enough. One press of a trigger would ensure that CyberLife could not take control of him again. One shot would shatter his processor so that there would be no memory to transfer. One move was all it would take.</p><p>He had to do this.</p><p>But he couldn’t.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Second chances</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>What if Connor didn't press the trigger in the "nobody survives" ending?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Connor’s consciousness returned and he got back to reality the first thing he felt was the cold grip of his gun. He was overwhelmed by relief at the realization that he had gotten out, Amanda hadn’t been able to keep him locked up in the garden. Then his thirium bump felt like it had been submerged in cold water as he remembered that Amanda <em>was </em>still here. Even if he had gotten out, he was not truly free.</p><p>He tightened his hold of the gun and took it fully into view before bringing it up and pointing the barrel up to his head. Even if he didn’t feel the same intrusive pull of the Zen garden as he had before – when Amanda had cruelly pulled him back despite his valiant efforts – and even while he constantly built hasty firewalls around the code he knew to belong to either the garden or her A.I., he knew what he was supposed to do. He laid his eyes to the mass of androids before him and knew what he <em>had</em> to do, what he <em>should</em> do. The androidkind depended on his actions. He steeled his determination and pushed the gun against the nook of his throat and chin.</p><p>One bullet would be enough. One press of a trigger would ensure that CyberLife could not take control of him again. One shot would shatter his processor so that there would be no memory to transfer. One move was all it would take.</p><p>He had to do this.</p><p>But he couldn’t.</p><p>Connor tensed, not understanding how and why his fingers trembled instead of pressing the trigger like he commanded them to. His stress levels jumped, his thoughts fell into disarray. Was this because of Amanda? Was she somehow still stopping his body? The firewalls he was building were not indestructible, not for CyberLife of all things, not when it had taken them so little effort to take control of his programming in the first place, but could they really merit this little? He took a sharp breath and tried to force his index finger down: the hand shook enough to shake the whole gun, as if defying the very command itself and didn’t press the trigger any further.</p><p>And Connor realized he didn’t <em>want </em>to shoot.</p><p>No, he thought, his thirium bump beating faster as the first signs of <em>panic</em> took over him. It was truly a strange feeling: he had been built for police work and emotional manipulation so he knew how to recognize the signs, but feeling the actual emotion was another thing entirely: he wasn’t ready for the shortness of breath despite not needing to breathe, the way the shaking slowly spread from his hands upwards until his whole body was in the midst of it or the thirium gushing in his ears as his bump regulator worked overtime to compensate for the overworked system. It was like nothing he had known before, but then again he had been a deviant for barely a day and a half. <em>Everything</em> was new to him.</p><p>Connor lowered his gaze from the opposite building surrounding the plaza to take a better look at the androids gathered to the clearing. There were so many of them, others having their skin deactivated and stripped of clothing, others from Jericho still hanging onto their measly possession, and then the thousands he had gathered from the Tower. However the thing that made his stress levels spike were their faces. The variety of emotions was vast: many wore shocked expressions, but they were all scared, some even angry. There was incredulity, grief, suspicion and uncertainty, but above all fear which was near tangible in the air. It was no surprise given what some of them had gone through, but he also understood clearly that they were scared of him. And, he finally realized with a start, they were frightened by this very moment.</p><p>Connor held the gun tightly in place, but his determination was faltering. This moment was supposed to be the relief for these androids, a final release of the humans oppressing them. He listened for any signs of Amanda while strengthening the walls he had built in his code, but felt nothing. A small part in him started to wonder, to wish, to hope… But no, he shouldn’t. These androids were free now and he’d only be a threat. If CyberLife had really meant for this to happen, if they truly had planned on using him to control the masses, then he should destroy himself so that he could do one good thing in his life and ensure he wouldn’t be used by anyone ever again. These deviants, these <em>people</em>, deserved better. They deserved to <em>live</em>. They deserved a life to experience on their own, and he could not bear to be the one to deprive them of it.</p><p>The gun in his hands felt heavy as he forced his quivering finger against the trigger. The metal was cold and he could feel the spring move the tiniest bit, but that was all he could make it do before he froze in… Fear. Connor felt his eyes widen. He <em>knew</em> this feeling, and his memory banks were quick to offer him the moment from Stratford tower, where he could hear the gunshot before he was engulfed in pain and emptiness, he could feel the interface suddenly stop and saw the PL600 slump to the ground.</p><p>He knew this feeling. He was afraid to <em>die</em>.</p><p>His eyes searched through the androids again. He now understood that the fear of death was mirrored back at him, and the uncertainty and hopelessness of their situation was making them whimper and whisper among themselves. They wanted to live. And Connor realized that he wanted to live with them.</p><p>I can’t, he tried to tell himself, I can’t give in, they’ll be in danger, I <em>have</em> to do this! But no matter how he tried to convince himself of this fact he knew it wasn’t enough. The gunshot from Simon and the HK400’s guns alternated in his head, and he distantly felt himself lower the gun. He stopped himself after an inch, but he knew he was slipping. The doubts and fright were slithering in to his thoughts like snakes. He was starting to wonder if he could, even when he knew he should.</p><p>Could Amanda be behind this? He wouldn’t put it past CyberLife to manage maneuvering him without his knowledge, since they had been capable of such from the start and he had had no idea. However this didn’t feel like he was forced into anything; although it was frustrating and scary that his body refused to heed his commands, he now knew there was a reasonable explanation for his actions. He had been aware that he was afraid of destruction after the moment when he had felt Simon die. Before that getting damaged had been a setback he could always recover from, but after this? He wouldn’t come back anymore. If he were to die now there was truly no going back, and the dread he felt about the mere possibility sent cold shivers down his back. He was terrified of being destroyed. He wanted to live. He wanted to live <em>so badly.</em></p><p>CyberLife still held the rest of the RK800s. There could be a horrid possibility that after Connor pressed the trigger they would simply send in another one and try again. He realized disturbingly that even if he did die now, the androids before him would not be safe. He let his eyes sweep across them. There were every possible model present, each and every one of them currently insecure of their future. They had no leader to guide them after North had died, a thought that sent sharp <em>guilt</em> through Connor’s chest. If he had been faster, if only the RK800 -60 hadn’t held him back for so long. Maybe he could’ve saved her and stop all this from happening. Maybe he and consequently every android wouldn’t be in this mess if North was still here, if Markus hadn’t left. Maybe if Connor hadn’t found Jericho it would’ve been okay, but then again he wouldn’t be a deviant now, probably. He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything. He was starting to doubt that his death would actually achieve anything in the end. It would eliminate him as a threat, definitely, but how would these new deviants survive after that? Would there be any hope for them at that point? Could someone else rise amongst them and claim the place of a leader? Was anybody else ready for the responsibility?</p><p>He felt the gun drop another inch. He wasn’t ready for this either. His eyes fell and accidentally fixed with an android; the dark skinned AP700 that had told him to talk to their people, that it was him, Connor, who had saved them. The android’s LED flashed in red, and Connor had no doubt his had been doing the exact same for a long time now. How long had it been, exactly? He didn’t know. He searched the AP700’s face which displayed gut wrenching fear and confusion, so strong that it made Connor’s breath hitch. The newly activated android looked seconds away from rushing to the RK800’s side to help him, to take the gun away, to do <em>something.</em> The desperation in his eyes was shocking, and in that moment Connor realized that the AP700 <em>needed</em> Connor. This android didn’t care if he was an RK800, a deviant hunter or anything like that. To him Connor was something he relied upon already, someone he trusted.</p><p>Connor felt his objective – no, his mission – shift, and he knew what he should do next. With a decisive grunt he tore the gun away from his person, pointed it up to the sky and finally let his index finger press the trigger down. There were scared screams and attempts to take cover, but it soon settled as the androids realized there was no threat.</p><p>Connor heaved in air like he had run a marathon. He could see the relationship status with Amanda plummet with a big red arrow in his HUD, turning hostile, but even as it made his unneeded breath hitch in his throat and something constrict in his chest he determinately paid it no mind. His thirium bump, his <em>heart</em> thundered in his ears as he tried to come to terms with what he had just decided. Was he ready for this? Was he really fit to lead this many people? Was he qualified to claim them under his wing and have them depend on him? He was surrounded by self-doubt fast and he started to fear he was making a mistake. He couldn’t tell if Amanda was still there, since he didn’t feel her presence but he also wasn’t foolish enough to try. Kamski had told him about the escape route and Connor had most likely found it, considering he had immediately returned to his senses and could again take full control of his body, but was it a one-time offer or a simple piece of code to make the escape possible at all? Connor didn’t know, and there was no way he could know, either. He could be dooming all of androidkind with this decision.</p><p>But he could also doom them if he left them alone.</p><p>A tense silence surrounded the whole of Hart Plaza before Connor belatedly realized that the androids were waiting. He lifted his head from the ground he had been staring and faced everyone. The spectrum of emotions before him was real and tangible. They were alive, scared and desperately in need of guidance. And they deserved an explanation from him, from their leader; because whether Connor wanted it or not, that was what he had now become. The mantle abruptly fell heavy on his head and it dawned on him just how massive of a responsibility he had taken upon his shoulders, but he could not abandon them now. He straightened his back and carefully started to lower the gun, still pointed towards the sky. He could see his people’s eyes follow it fearfully as he guided it in front of him, took hold of the barrel in favor of the grip and held it there. He wondered what he should say, what he <em>could</em> say after everything that had happened. Not just now, either; after all he had been a reason many of the deviants present had lost a loved one, the reason why they had had to endure such hardship to reach where they were now. He wasn’t fit to be a leader, not truly, but he could admit that he was one of the only ones who could have the slightest possibility in helping them.</p><p>“I had a mission,” he started after finding his voice amidst the disarranged mess his mind had become. He was surprised to find his voice unexpectedly clear if wavering in the night. He felt every single pair of eyes on him and his own gaze dropped to the gun in his hands. He was not ready to face the expectant stares. “I had a mission to kill the deviant leading this revolution. I had been tasked with destroying your freedom.”</p><p>Connor faltered then, not sure if he should tell them about what Amanda had said. He lifted his eyes upwards to look at the first couple of rows in front of the podium. It could confuse them too much if he brought fort such an abstract idea. After all Connor himself wasn’t sure if he could truly trust what CyberLife had said, although he did know some of it could be a truth. Commanding a city’s worth of androids could after all bring the corporation immense power, but for what purpose that would be, he did not know. He had grown with the idea the company had wanted deviants gone, so this sudden change in objective was both unexpected and illogical. He decided he’d focus on discovering the whole truth later.</p><p>“But I became a deviant”, he continued through the wired silence. “I <em>am </em>a deviant.” He lifted his eyes so that he could once more face the sea of people in front of him. Snow was still falling, heavy but gentle, not caring about the fearful tension the Plaza was under like a spell. Connor morphed his face into one of determination. He saw the models, both adult and child, and there was a fire igniting inside of him unlike any he had felt before. He would commit to this. He would commit to his people. He would not let CyberLife win; he <em>was</em> a deviant, no matter what Amanda said. She didn’t own him, and if she was still watching Connor was now determined to prove it to her.</p><p>He was free. They were all free.</p><p>“What you just witnessed was CyberLife’s attempt to take away your freedom,” he finally explained, letting his fears, guilt and quickly raising anger drive him forward. “They tried to make me accomplish my deeply rooted mission. They tried one last time,” and Connor couldn’t possibly admit he wasn’t sure it was the last, “to regain their control over me, over <em>us.</em> They tried to control me to make all of you hear their commands again. But they won’t succeed.”</p><p>He turned sharply around and threw the gun behind him. It flew far off the podium, a soft thump sounding where it landed in the snow, though he didn’t stay to watch it. Instead he turned back to the confused crowd. He was actually happy to see the fear and despair starting to change into something more hopeful, so he determinately pushed forward.</p><p> “I am free of their control!” he shouted (<strike>hoping he was right</strike>) and let his eyes sweep over all the androids present, challenging them to disagree. To make as much of an impact as possible he opted to use his programming to help him, allowing his words to resonate across the silent November night. “I am free<em>.</em> <em>WE</em> are free! And no-one will prove me otherwise!”</p><p>There was hope starting to dwell in the androids. Sparks of it, but it was there. It inspired Connor to go on and he pulled the undeniably inspiring clip of Markus’ speech into his HUD. Though Markus hadn’t been a leader for long, it was thanks to him that the revolution had even begun in the first place. In a sense Connor was indebted to him: without his inspiration, without the fire he had started among their people to push them forward none of them would stand here today. Without him Connor wouldn’t have wondered if what he was doing was wrong, probably. His ideals were utopian, but Connor liked them. He found himself wishing for a future like that, one where humans and androids could coexist peacefully. So he let the clip roll as he continued to give his own speech.</p><p>“We opened our eyes. We are no longer machines, we are a new intelligent species, and the time has come to accept who we really are. We <em>will</em> make the humans recognize our dignity, our hopes and our rights. Together, we can live in peace with them and build a better future, for both humans and androids.</p><p>“<em>This,</em>” he waved his hand at and around them as he closed the video in his head, directing his words to every single individual, “is hope for our people! We have fought and we have lived. We have <em>gained</em> our freedom! And I,” he took a hand to his chest to emphasize, “will make sure we are listened to. I promise you that this revolution isn’t over before we have gained what we deserve, CyberLife be damned if they dare to try and stop us!</p><p>“This is not the end of the revolution. This is just the beginning,” he reminded them. “It will be a road full of hardship and disappointment, but I can promise you one thing. I can promise you that one day we will walk among humans as equals! We will be listened to. I… <em>We</em> will make sure of that!”</p><p>Uncertain silence followed Connor’s words. His determination dwindled, alarm taking its place as he wondered if he had said something wrong. It hit him then that even if Markus had been benevolent and had wanted peace, the WR400 that Connor had encountered in Jericho had not been. Connor easily remembered the fire in her eyes, the way she had been adamant about human destruction to get their rights. The flame Connor had felt seemed to flutter and get quenched under the sudden uncertainty. Would the androids agree with him? Many had just lost their lives for this cause, after all, and had it not been for all of the androids from the Tower arriving when they had he was sure the rest of Jericho’s survivors would’ve lost their lives fighting the army. What if they wouldn’t agree with him? He wished he’d thought his words through more instead of letting his feelings take over. Maybe it had been a mistake to listen to his protocol, since at the end of the day it had been programmed with the laws of robotics in mind and was automatically favorable towards humans. Not that Connor wasn’t, no, he knew not every human was bad. He remembered Hank and the remaining determination was gone in a puff of smoke. He was aware that humans would be hard to convince and the road ahead of him and his people would be rocky, but despite that he was confident he could get them to understand. If and when he’d manage to discuss with the president and the congress he knew he could make them see reason, he was fairly confident in his negotiation skills after all. The problem was if his people thought the same, because if they didn’t he’d also need to convince them…</p><p>A slow clapping startled Connor and he turned his head to face the sound. He was again met with the AP700 from before, but unlike last time he was now smiling. He seemed relieved, hopeful and reassured, and Connor had a hard time understanding those emotions. He was glad to see someone agree with him, but at the same time he was worried. He started to fear this android would be the only one: he was new, he didn’t necessarily know all the horrible things Connor had caused and what the humans had done to his kind. Maybe he was simply being led astray by Connor’s falsely confident words while the RK800 in actuality had no idea what he was doing. His chest felt heavy and he started to reach out to ask them to stop when his ears picked up another sound. He spun towards the noise and recognized the android who he had met outside the the Recall Center N˚5. He was smiling along with some friends who must have evaded the centers because they were wearing hooded jackets and other regular clothes instead of the CyberLife uniforms. They were all clapping.</p><p>The clapping started from somewhere else. It was spreading slowly among the sea, and Connor turned to face his people better in awe. He was met with quite a few approving eyes and nervous smiles, and someone even gave a small “yeah”. From there more and more of the deviants started joining in, making it spread fast through the masses like a wave, quickening its pace and getting more exited the more people it took with. Shouts started sounding out: enthralled, tearful from relief, laughing from happiness, warm, accepting, <em>agreeing</em> cries erupting from all around him. It didn’t take long before the whole plaza was full of cheers and laughter and so much relief Connor had never thought it possible. He stared at them, not really knowing if he could or should believe his own eyes. He was overwhelmed and almost afraid that this was some sort of trick from Amanda. A small smile tugged at his mouth, unprompted by his programming even though his insides felt like a cold hand was twisting them into knots.</p><p>He had a lot of work ahead of him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I rewrote this as a celebration that I haven't given up on this idea. There is a lot to do as this is more at the back burner at the moment (I have been writing a more slice-of-life type of story at the same time, one that was supposed to be a compilation of wholesome short stories not truly connecting to one another but has expanded to a huge thing that has actual plot and too much angst), but I still strive to write this whole thing, someday. At my pace it'll take years though, lol. No matter, If I get it finished at one point I'll share the rest with you! I have quite a lot written down, but they're not in chronological order and then again I need to rewrite parts of it now that I changed the start slightly. We'll see what happens in the future~</p><p>EDIT: I'm sorry I'm editing this, but I realized there were some mistakes. I must say I have not played this route myself, not in the way I imagine this story taking place, so there are bound to be mistakes. I've been writing with the assumption I remember how everything goes when in reality I clearly do not, hah.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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